WBY - Magnus
by wildblueyonder6
Summary: John,The Stable Master, Dean,The Royal Prince and Sam, the Littlest Prince. AU.The Kingdom of Locherby is ruled by a just Queen with to young men, one who is destined to be King, both are destined for greatness. Dean may be the prince but he is still just a boy. John helps keep him well grounded. Magnus is the stable's foundation stallions. Will include disciplinary spanking


Title: Magnus

Characters: John – The Stable Master, Dean- The Royal Prince and Sam – the Littlest Prince. AU RPF. The Kingdom of Locherby is ruled by a just Queen with to young men, one who is destined to be King, both are destined for greatness. They do however, have to make it through boyhood. Dean may be the prince but he is still just a boy. John helps keep him well grounded. Magnus is the stables Foundation Stallion. Boy + horse = trouble.

To say that Dean is spoiled or unhappy with his lot is life would do him and his family a great disservice.

Dean is very aware of his station as the future King. He is very aware that he has just about everything he wants and that many young men can't begin to live in the luxury that he has every day.

Dean has the finest food, a plump and decidedly wonderful cook who runs her kitchen like a war zone but has the most amazing way to turn even the dullest of meals into treasures. He has warm furs to sleep on, tanned to perfection, as soft as butter and the loveliest of colors. Warm browns, bold blacks and his favorite silver gray. He has the most fearless hounds, the surest bowman and his mother, The Queen, is a fair and just ruler.

He has a little brother, who by his very nature can be annoying but whom Dean loves more than himself.

And of course he has horses.

Dean has the finest horses anywhere. A rainbow of the most incredible mares and geldings, fillies and colts. He has his pick of them all. He has helped to train more than a few and is proud of his accomplishments. But the one horse he wants almost more than anything is Magnus. And Magnus? Well, he does not have Magnus.

On paper Magnus is his, just like Volte and Gowan and even the pony Sage. He is to be King and they are all his but the reality is Magnus belongs to John.

John Morgan. Simple Stable Master.

Dean blushes at the title he gives John. John is more than Stable Master, he is a godfather of sorts. He was his father's best friend and a more loyal subject Dean could never find. John is kind and tough in equal measure. John is easy laughs and merry eyes and a no-nonsense everything else. John is his friend. John is also the reason Dean doesn't have Magnus. Simply because John says so.

Magnus is their foundation stallion. He is a war stallion, light on his feet but solidly built, massive in size and heart and just about everything else. He is gray, a dark steel gray that has lightened through the years to a gorgeous near white, strongly dappled through the hindquarters and over his long sloping shoulders. His mane and tail are dark gray and long and free flowing, a tail that almost touches the ground and a forelock so heavy it almost covers his eyes. They are kind eyes, Dean thinks but they are full of fire.

His father rode Magnus effortlessly. Dean had been ten when The King had died but some of his most cherished memories include The King on Magnus. There were personal memories of his father too, of cuddles and kisses and large, warm hands but when he thinks of The King he thinks of Magnus.

He is to be King. Why can't he have his horse?

Because John Morgan says he can't and no one, not even his mother, will argue with John when it comes to his stable.

Yes, the stable is Dean's too on paper but it is John Morgan's in everyone's eyes.

Even, Dean's.

John is the greatest of Stable Masters. He runs his stable like a kingdom itself. And if John says that Dean is not to ride Magnus. Then he will not ride Magnus.

Dean is barely allowed to admire the horse from outside his stall.

In Dean's logical part of the brain, he understands. Magnus is a stallion who breeds mares on a routine basis. Magnus is a well-mannered horse, John wouldn't tolerate him if he wasn't, but he ruled by his cock and balls as much as any male would be. Add that to his immense power, his high level of fitness and the fact that he is so finely tuned that any change in his routine causes the stallion to become difficult – he can be dangerous.

Apparently never for John. For John he is a pussycat. He seems like it to Dean too. Dean feeds Magnus apples and the stallion delicately lips them from his hand. Dean has helped groom him, under John's watchful eye and despite all the pent up energy and fire, the stallion allows it.

But riding Magnus? Never. Only John.

John handles all the breeding. All the exercise. All the RIDING. Just John.

It makes Dean want to hit something. Which is very undignified and very unroyal but John makes Dean so angry sometimes.

Dean is a competent rider; John himself has made sure of that. Dean can handle Magnus, he knows he can but the kicker is.

Can he handle John?

XXX

The barn is cool in the heat of the day. When it's hot, John keeps the horses in, those that can stay in. The youngsters often stay out day and night but the riding horses – are usually in during the hottest part of the day.

It's smart, Dean thinks, but then, John is always smart. Smart about everything from hay to grass to the way he schools every horse in his care. The youngsters don't get backed till they are two, although they are handled often. Gives them time to grow, John says, and to be babies. And when he starts to ride them, very seldom is there a bucking contest. He's gentle, something most horseman don't really agree on. He's soft spoken and quiet, allowing skittish colts and fillies the time they need to get used to the idea of a man on their back. Dean has watched it time and time again. Occasionally a youngster decides to show off with some serious bucking but John is never harsh, never too strong. And he never falls off. He always wins. Sometimes the newly backed horse is blowing hard and even once in a while, so is John, but he has never been thrown.

At least not that Dean has seen.

Dean travels down the stalls, scratching a head, stroking a velvety nose. They all know him. Magnus is at the end of the barn; it's actually a barn within the barn. The stall is huge and he has his own turn out area. It's necessary. Magnus is usually fine with the geldings but around mares, especially when they are in season, well he is a handful.

Dean has been allowed to watch the great stallion breed a mare. He is rough and the mare is sometimes not receptive. In the throws of the breeding shed, Magnus is an entirely different horse. That is another thing that John insists on. He doesn't turn Magnus out with the mares, there is too much of a chance for valuable mares to be hurt or Magnus himself to get hurt.

There are people who think that John is crazy. Turn the stallion out with a herd of mares and you will get foals. But John is selective. Each mare he breeds, he breeds with thought and care. Each mare is selected for what she will do to improve their line and seldom are outside mares accepted into his breeding program. Just like everything John does, there is a reason for it. He doesn't particularly care if anyone believes in his practices, however, no one can ignore the fact that Locherby has one of the finest breeding programs around and they produce some of the finest foals.

Dean comes to the separation between Magnus and the rest of the barn. He slides the doors over and is greeted with a low throaty whicker from the stallion. Magnus turns in his stall, blowing softly in Dean's direction. Dean reaches through the bars, touches the gray muzzle, tickles at the long hairs around his nose. He breathes into the stallions nose, sharing his breath with Magnus and then reaches up to the stallion's forehead, rubs hard between his eyes. Magnus loves it and slowly drops his head, relaxing into Dean's touch.

He looks so gentle. So sweet.

Dean knows he is not always but right now? Magnus is the pussycat he appears to be around John.

Dean glances around covertly. There is no one here. Not even John. John left earlier in the day to look at a mare in a neighboring village. Dean knows he will be gone for a good part of the day. Maybe even spend the night. Horse dealing is an art and if John decides to buy the mare, well he will probably be a while. The purchase will help the man who has the horse, he will know that his mare is in Locherby's stables, the money will be good too, but that won't stop the haggling of the price.

Dean smiles.

John will win on that too. If he chooses the mare, she will join the herd at Locherby.

Dean slides open the door and steps into the stall with Magnus. Standing next to him is like standing next to sheer power. The stallion is big, not as big as the horses that carry heavily armored knights into battle, but he doesn't need to be that huge. He is substantial though, big boned, powerful hindquarters and lightly feathered fetlocks. The stallion stomps in the heavily bedded stall, blows his nose and chuffs into Dean's hair. It would be so easy, Dean thinks. Slip a halter over the stallion, lead him to the aisle and tack him up.

Just to see if he can do it.

Magnus is_ his_ horse. He should be able to practice saddling and bridling him.

So he does.

He slides his hand up to Magnus' great head, slides the halter on and leads the horse out of the stall.

Magnus comes quietly enough and Dean ties him up with a quick release knot as he has been taught. _Horses don't always think things through Dean, sometimes they just react and I hope you never see a horse choking on a securely tied lead because someone doesn't think to use a quick release knot_. Dean runs a brush over Magnus' glistening coat. Picks his hooves and then runs his hands through the long mane and tail. There are no tangles, John wouldn't let his prize stallion get tangles in his glorious main and tail.

It's no more than Dean has done with the horse in the past. Although, John has always been around to supervise.

He looks at Magnus' tack. There is a small tack room with his private bridle and saddle. The saddle has been made specifically for the stallion's broad back. Dean flicks his eyes in that direction again, looks at the great horse standing quietly in his cross ties.

Then and there Dean decides to do it.

No one is around. He can take Magnus for a quiet hack, just around the perimeter of the yard. He won't even ask for a trot, just slow and quiet walking. It will be good for Magnus to get out and move. His stall is big, but Dean is sure he would appreciate the exercise.

Besides. How will anyone know?

XXX

Dean steps into the stirrups easily. Well, except for the fact that he has to hop a bit to reach the stirrup. Magnus is that big. Despite the hop, he is exceedingly careful, his toe doesn't jab Magnus' belly, his heel doesn't touch his ribs. He settles lightly on the saddle. The stallion waits a moment and then starts off at a brisk walk before Dean asks for it. Magnus is impatient to go and despite being well trained, he is just a bit too hot to wait for the cue. Dean hands follows the stallion's pull on the reins, Dean lets it happen, feels the leather pull through his fingers. But it isn't harsh and Dean is aware of it.

It's funny; Dean has been riding almost since before he could walk, still, he's amazed at how powerful Magnus is. He can feel it with every stride, Dean slides the reins back asking for a little more collection and Magnus obliges. He feels like a coiled spring under Dean, like kinetic energy just waiting to be released. Dean walks twice around the yard but it is difficult keeping the stallion walking, he jigs more often then not and tosses his head, frustrated at having to walk.

Dean can sense the stallion's irritation and he understands it. Walking is boring. So he asks for a trot as they head out toward the field. He was just going to stay in the yard, but Magnus wants to go. Magnus pulls and suddenly they are cantering. It is exhilarating, the wind through his hair, Magnus' wild silver mane whipping along Dean's body. Dean sits deeply in the saddle. Dean isn't scared or worried. He is controlling Magnus but at times, during the canter he can feel the stallion pull, like he wants to gallop and that would be so lovely. To gallop this great horse through the field like his father once did.

He thinks about John for a moment. Of what he would say but he's already broken every rule regarding Magnus there is. What is one more? He leans forward just a bit and asks for the gallop.

Magnus takes a breathtaking leap from the canter as if he's finally gotten to do what he wants to do.

It is as glorious as Dean ever imagined.

Dean leans into Magnus' neck, the stallion snorts heavily but maintains the speed. The ground rushes by and all he can feel is power under him and hear the sound of pounding hooves.

Magnus is so fast!

They come to a solid brick wall that separates fields. Dean has jumped it before with Gowan but Magnus is running full out. It takes every ounce of strength that Dean has to bring Magnus under some kind of control. The stallions is pissed at Dean's harsh half halt and the strong pull on the reins as well as how solidly Dean sits hard in the saddle, but Dean manages to bring him back enough to attempt the wall. He feels Magnus rock back on his hindquarters, feels the power and then he is airborne. He is flying! They land on the other side and it is amazing!

Until he sees the fillies.

He has jumped into the fillies' field.

He is on a stallion in a field of what is the equivalent of teenage girls.

"Sonofabitch!"

Was Magnus' jump into the field as effortless as it was because Magnus knew they were there? He wouldn't be surprised. The stallion is crafty! Now they are in a field with a herd of fillies and any propriety that Magnus may have once had is thrown to the dogs. He screams. Dean has heard that scream before.

A stallion ready to mount his mares.

The problem is, Dean is on his back. He doubts very much that John would appreciate the situation.

Neither does Magnus.

XXX

John chose to ride Gowan to the next village. Gowan is steady and reliable so if they decide to pony a skittish mare back, he is the obvious choice. Plus Gowan works hard at the barn; a change in pace will do him good.

John notices that the gelding is off not even half way to the next village. It would be very subtle but to anyone but John but for John it's as noticeable as if Gowan has had his leg hacked off. He halts him right away, jumps off and quickly runs his hand down the gelding's leg. He can feel heat around the right cannon bone. John briefly wonders if he has to kick his own ass for taking a lame horse out to ride but then he quickly revisits his morning and he distinctly remembers checking Gowan's legs this morning, like he always does. Like he does with every horse he rides. Taking care of your horse is something so ingrained in John that he does it without thinking.

Gowan blows softly into John's hair. Gowan doesn't seem particularly concerned about his sore leg but John knows there is no way he will ride him. Not only won't he ride him, but he's going to walk him back to Locherby's barn. The mare the next village over will have to wait.

He turns around and drapes the reins over Gowan's head and neck, then he loosens the gelding's girth a bit. Gowan will follow him. It's a long walk and the day will be hot.

It is hot.

Riding boots are not made for walking, John muses, however, his are so old and worn they are molded to his feet like slippers. He will be fine and any soreness he may have will be less than what poor Gowan is feeling now.

They walk for a good fifteen minutes before they John finds what he is looking for. There is a stream he remembered from the ride in. It's a good place to stop, let Gowan drink and maybe soak his leg for a few minutes. He takes off his boots, pushes up his breeches and leads Gowan into knee-deep water. The gelding plunges his nose in the fresh water, drinking deeply. The icy water feels refreshing on John's toes but he's more concerned with how it will make Gowan's sore leg feel. They have a cold stream not far from the barn that John uses routinely for sore legs. It almost always helps.

Besides. What else does he have to do today?

XXX

John's pussycat of a stallion has turned into a mountain lion. It is as if Dean is nothing more than an annoyance on his back.

Apparently though, the annoyance is significant enough for Magnus to want to dislodge him because Magnus does just that. He offers a huge buck, corkscrewing in the air and sweet Jesus, the power is incredible. Dean has watched John do advanced war moves on the stallion from the ground and he has even seen Magnus buck a time or two while John was riding - but to be on his back? Well it is an entirely different situation.

With an entirely different outcome.

Dean gets dumped.

Hard.

It's not the first time Dean has been thrown from a horse and he doubts seriously it will be his last. John always says that a true horseman has found himself on the ground more than a few times and if he says different? Well, he is a liar.

From the ground, Dean looks up at the blue cloudless sky, he tries to take a breath but apparently he can't breathe at the moment.

This too is familiar. But it doesn't shake the scariness. His body wants to breathe. He needs to breathe but is unable to. The feeling probably lasts all of thirty seconds but Dean hates it. Finally, he takes a deep gulping breath and that seems to settle his racing heart. He moans as he rolls over, nothing is broken but damn he is sore. He thinks there is a bruise somewhere on his back that if not purple yet, will be soon.

Dean is young though and a bruised tailbone is the least of his worries now.

A bruised arse is likely to follow if he doesn't get Magnus back and back soon.

Dean stands up slowly and moves toward the stallion who is busily gathering his girls together. Magnus is of course, still wearing his saddle and bridle, so he looks a bit silly galloping around the fillies like some out of control circus horse. Neck arched, long tail billowing in the wind. The fillies are taking turns running from the great beast as they break in nervous twos and threes and run for the opposite side of the field. They are obviously terrified at the crazy stallion who is determined to whip them into shape.

And take their virginity if he has anything to do with it, Dean muses.

Right now though. None of them are in season (he hopes) and they are only yearlings and two year olds. Magnus does not seem to care about the propriety of young mares though; as far as he is concerned they are now his girls.

Even from Dean's vantage point he can see that the fillies are hysterical and that Magnus is a hot and sweaty mess too.

Well, fuck.

Dean isn't afraid of horses, not at all, nor is he afraid of Magnus but a herd of horses in a frenzy of excitement can be dangerous. Horses don't typically try to hurt people, not usually, but that doesn't mean a boy can't get in the way of a scared horse and find himself with injured body parts. Which gets Dean thinking about his arse again and give him renewed energy to catch Magnus.

Dean moves up to the newly dominated herd.

He's talking low and quiet, "Stupid sonofabitch, Magnus. There's my boy. You dimwitted moron," Although the last statement applies to himself, he thinks.

Magnus hears his name and stands stock still, reins draped over his neck and oh dear God, don't let him break them and or break his neck. Dean notices the saddle is covered in mud and how in the hell did that happen? He has no clue - but add tack cleaning to the list of shit he now has to do today.

It's a gorgeous, if hot summer day and Magnus is covered in lather, dripping down his shoulders where the breastplate has rubbed and under his hindquarters. His mane blows in the wind and he trumpets a high whinny, which sends the fillies off to another side of the field.

Magnus glances at Dean disdainfully and then happily races after the girls.

"Shit, Goddamn cock sucking sonofabitch," Which is stupid, Dean knows, but it feels good to spew it anyway.

Dean follows the herd slowly to the next section of field.

XXX

It takes two hours for Dean to catch Magnus. Dean thinks toward the end, Magnus is just dicking with him.

XXX

Finally, horse in hand; he leads the sweaty stallion back to the barn. The fillies are hot and sweaty too, they've been herded lovingly by Magnus for the past two hours. Still, he can't cool down every damn horse in the field and once Magnus is removed from their herd they should settle down pretty quickly, Dean's pretty sure they will be okay – horses rough house all the time in the pasture.

He hopes.

Because not getting Magnus back to the barn and dry and comfortable will be horrible. Collicking the herd of fillies because Magnus drove them into hysteria will be almost worse he thinks.

He leads the decidedly gleeful stallion back to the barn where is met by Sam. Sam's eyes widen at Dean and Magnus, covered in mud, sweat and brambles. Dean is limping a bit, thanks to Magnus and his rather athletic removal of Dean from his back. Plus he thinks he had something in his boot.

Magnus seems to no more worried than he did when he left.

"Holy shit." Sam says.

"Stop cussing – I'll cuff you if say that again." Dean tries to act a tough, but all he feels is tired and angry. And tired.

"What happened?" Sam ignores Dean's threat because it is obvious he hasn't the energy to clout Sam, in fact, it looks like he can barely walk to the barn.

Dean sighs, "I rode Magnus."

Sam laughs, "It looks like he rode you!"

Dean glares at Sam, "Shut up."

Sam sobers, "John is going to kill you."

"No he won't. He won't find out." Dean sounds confident. Confidence is something that a prince should be, even if he really doesn't feel that way.

Sam tilts his head at Dean like a dog who doesn't quite get the meaning of the words, "Not likely."

Dean sighs, "Please Sam, it will be okay. Will you help me?"

Sam's eyes light up. He is always up for whatever Dean has planned; besides the thought of putting one over on Master John is a little titillating.

"Of course."

"I will cool Magnus down and clean him up. Can you help with the tack?"

Sam scowls, "How come I get the dirty work."

"It is all dirty work and my part is the dirtiest. I'm tired already and I have to walk Magnus till he's cool, and then clean him up. Remember he's gray under all this mud and John will notice any dirt. " Dean sighs, "Look at his tail? That alone will take an hour." Dean realizes he is almost whining. A prince does not whine.

"Please," Dean adds.

Sam nods. "Okay, Dean."

Dean is grateful that Sam doesn't offer a caveat or a stipulation. He could and Dean would have to follow it. But Sam is happy to be able to help. Such is a nine year olds thought on things.

Dean leads Magnus into the barn, pulls his sweaty saddle pad, saddle and breastplate off, then his bridle. He looks at the gunky mud all over it, the dried sweat and thinks he may owe Sam something big time.

"Yuck." Sam says. But he grabs some saddle soap and some soft cloths and gets to work cleaning.

Dean really, really loves Sam. Dean leads the big gray stallion out of the barn and starts to cool him down.

It takes a half hour before Dean is comfortable that Magnus is comfortable. He then goes to the well to pull up a fresh bucket of water and Magnus drinks – then he leads the stallion to the creek where he carefully washes off the mud and dried sweat. Magnus stands quietly for it, maybe he is tired too.

Finally, he thinks the stallion is clean enough to pass John's inspection so he leads him back to the barn. Sam is finishing up with the tack and Dean is impressed. When his brother puts his mind to something, he really does a good job.

He carefully ties Magnus up and starts detangling his tail with his fingers. John says it's the best way to keep from breaking the hair. Dean isn't sure that is the case but he is not taking any chances. Any more than he already has, he amends.

Dean sighs. Magnus looks almost as good as he did this morning. He leads the stallion to his stall and puts him in. Sam stands next to him as the gray lays down in the straw and rolls, then shakes. It is okay. Horses do that all the time.

Dean could almost cry with relief.

Then he hears John whistling as he walks Gowan up to the barn. This early? How could he be this early? And how in the hell did he and Sam manage to pull this off? From his right side he hears Sam whisper low, "Dean, Magnus' off fore…it looks swollen."

Dean steps into the stall and runs his hand down Magnus right front leg. It is swollen and hot and now John is here.

Can he pretend he doesn't know? Can he just hope that Magnus will be okay? What would a prince do? Better yet, what would a horseman do?

Dean shuts the door quickly.

He knows the answer to both of those questions.

They both head toward the main part of the barn and John.

XXX

John pulls the saddle off of Gowan as he notices the boys coming from Magnus' part of the barn. "Hey Dean, grab me the poultice and some wraps okay? Gowan has a sore leg."

"Yes, sir." John arches a brow at the "sir". Not often does the boy defer to him in that fashion. John doesn't expect it and Dean rarely feels the need to say it. It makes a man wonder.

But Dean comes out readily enough with the premixed poultice they keep in a jar. It's John's own personal recipe, modified a bit from his father's recipe. It does a great job at reducing inflammation.

John opens the jar and slips his hand in the muck. It looks like muck, it smells like muck. He pulls out a glob and smears it on Gowan's leg. He smoothes it long downward strokes, following the gelding's tendons. He grabs the bandages and carefully wraps them around Gowan's leg then finishes with stable wraps.

He settles back on his heels.

"What do you think boys?"

He's shocked when Dean answers, "I think we need more poultice."

XXX

John doesn't recall being this angry with the boys in a long time. Especially Dean. Dean is thirteen. He is smart. He is a good kid but he has just put both the foundation stallion of Locherby and himself in jeopardy.

John is seething.

Seething is an understatement.

John is livid.

Dean tells the tale as John carefully palpates Magnus' leg, and then the rest of him. It's warm and sore, probably from the day's illicit activities. He has enough poultice to wrap the stallion and he does it easily.

The boys hover outside of Magnus' stall, looking both guilty and relieved in equal measure.

Once he is satisfied that Magnus is okay – he turns to the boys. "You two stay here while I check on the girls."

John stomps off. Yes, stomps off, sore feet and all.

He uses the time walking to the fillies' field to try and calm himself down. Dean is a boy.

A stupid boy.

Because he is a stupid boy he is bound to do stupid stuff.

Sam is bound to follow him.

John grits his teeth as he opens the gate to the field.

He visually checks each filly. Running hands down legs and speaking softly to them. They are no worse for wear from their impromptu session in sexuality. Even Lark – the skittish of his girls, seems to have settled down. He sends them off at a brisk trot, carefully watching for any sore horses.

There are none.

There will be a few sore boys though.

XXX

"He's going to kill us, Dean," Sam sounds like he might cry. Sam is a pretty tough kid, but he loves John and hates to be in his bad graces. Plus, despite being tough, he's been on the receiving end of John's spankings. He knows what he is in for.

"No, Sam, he is going to kill me." Dean sounds positive, "You are going to get a slap on the wrist. You did nothing but help me out."

Sam turns to Dean, "Not true. I was part of the cover up. I knew it, John knows it, he is so very angry."

Dean can't argue with the fact that John is angry, "Yeah, I know that, but he's angry with me, maybe a little disappointed in you. It will be okay Sam. I promise, if you get a spanking, it will be nothing compared to what I am to receive."

Sam sniffles once, "That doesn't make me feel much better, Dean. I don't want you to get in trouble either."

Dean smiles, "Well, that is a given. And I deserve it. So don't worry about it." Dean ruffles Sam's shaggy head affectionately, "I'm sorry to have gotten you in this situation."

Sam smiles just a bit, "Me too."

XXX

John finds that the walk back is somewhat cleansing. He tries to breath in the late afternoon air as deeply as possible.

He doesn't discipline horses or boys when he is angry. He just doesn't. It doesn't mean he hasn't been tempted to though. Right now, he feel tempted.

But he won't.

He has a game plan. Sam first. Because it will make Dean feel worse. Dean needs to feel worse. He needs to know that his actions have created the situation for his little brother. He knows it, of course he does. But he needs to KNOW it.

John already knows that Sam will get a lick and a promise. The boy knows he was wrong but was also helping Dean. Standing up for and standing beside his brother is to be encouraged. Not to mention, standing beside his King in the future. No, Sam will get a spanking but it will be short and brief.

Dean on the other hand.

John walks up to the barn. There is a strop that hangs inside the barn door. John has used it on stable boys before when they have gotten out of hand. They live with John for the most part; he is their master and their father figure. He hasn't had to thrash a boy very often but boys being boys, sometimes he has had to.

He hasn't used it with Dean though.

Today he thinks he will.

He grabs the strop as he heads into the barn. It's thick and heavy and as well oiled and taken care of as any piece of leather in his stable. He slaps it once against his own thigh. It hurts, the sting will stay with Dean a bit. Both boys are standing in the aisle of the barn.

"Sam." John's voice is low but not mean.

Sam squares his shoulders and heads toward John. The lad is scared, John can see that. It should make him feel bad that he is scared, but the reality is, it doesn't. Being afraid of a thrashing is normal. Taking it despite being afraid, is what separates a brave boy from a coward.

Sam is no coward.

"Master John, I'm so very sorry for my part in trying to deceive you." Sam's voice doesn't shake and John is proud of the boy.

"I know." He says gruffly and he pulls Sam over a handy saddle rack that is just the right height for a thrashing. He steadies Sam though, his hand on his lower back and uses the strop. It's important to John that both boys feel the leather today, but Sam will not get much of a taste of it.

John feels Sam shudder and sob. It is quiet, he won't cry like a baby anymore. John gives him a few good licks and then pulls Sam up. Sam takes a quick step into his arms and John allows it.

Sam has always been more of a cuddler if such a thing is possible. Sam's small body shakes a bit and John is pretty sure his blouse gets wet but it doesn't bother him. "Now get on out of here, lad – unless you want to stay for Dean."

Sam shakes his head. No he doesn't want to see his big brother get thrashed.

Then it is Dean and John.

"Dean, do you understand why I'm so unhappy with you right now?"

"Yes. I disobeyed you and I could have hurt the fillies. I could have hurt Magnus. It would have been horrible if Magnus had been injured."

John nods, "It would have been. Still, it might not have affected his breeding status, although he might have never been able to be ridden again."

"That would have been a shame, Master John. He is too good to spend his entire life in the breeding shed."

John smiles, "Magnus probably wouldn't mind it, but you are right, he has value as a war horse and to think that he might have been seriously injured, well, that in itself is worthy of a thrashing. What do you think?"

"Yes, I do think so." Dean tries to sound as brave as his little brother did.

John's voice drops a notch, "But that is not the worse thing that could have happened."

Dean drops his eyes from John's. John barks, "Dean!"

"Yes, Master John." The boy brings his eyes quickly up to John's.

"What could be worse?" John asks.

It is obvious that Dean has no idea. There can be nothing worse than hurting Magnus. Hurting his father's warhorse, injuring the foundation stallion of Locherby. He shakes his head. "I don't know, John." His green eyes look puzzled.

"What about hurting you? Dean, Magnus could have killed you today. Loosing you would be…horrible for all of us. For the realm, for the future of Locherby. But most of all, losing you would be horrible for me."

John reaches over to Dean, his hand pulls the boy over to him and even before his lifts the strop he hugs Dean hard.

"You are the son of my heart, Dean. I know you are not mine. In fact, I am more yours – I am at bidding and your service. But I loved your father and I love you. To think that you could have been killed today…" John's voice trembles a bit. He shocks himself at the confession. He has always felt this way about Dean and Sam too but to say it out loud is oddly off putting.

"So, shall we get this done?" John says it softly.

"Yes, sir."

John spanks Dean hard. The hardest he thinks he has ever done. Dean cries. Something Dean doesn't really do either. John is not sure if it is the soundness of the thrashing or John's own confession that brings on the tears. It doesn't matter, John lets his prince cry. Lets the boy fold himself into John's embrace, much like his younger brother did.

Sometimes John thinks that Dean needs this. Needs to be a boy and not a prince. Needs to know that someone loves him for him and not for who he is. John can do that in spades.

So he lets Dean cry till there is no more cry left.

There is no one but the horses to hear and they won't tell.

End.


End file.
